Mama Told Me 'Bout Dunmer
by wasuresara
Summary: Part 1 of the first book in my 5 short story series! About a Dunmer named Brynn who meets the Nord Stenvar. They form a bond that cannot be broken. Or can it? Stay tuned! Part 2 will come soon! I promise!


Winter definitely wasn't something Brynn liked very much. Morrowind rarely ever had snow. This was the complete opposite. Well, he was told by Ralof that he should try joining the Stormcloaks. Yeah it was something he would never thought he would do but he was just getting sick of the Imperial scumbags that lurked and polluted Skyrim's once beautiful soil. Skyrim is his home, ever since he ran away from his past in Morrowind when he was a teen.

As soon as he walked through Windhelm's gates, he heard chatter. It wasn't really chatter. More like yelling coming from his right. Brynn looked out of the corner of his eyes to see what the fuss was about, noticing 2 Nords ganging up on a lady-Dunmer.

"You come here when you are not wanted, you eat our food, you pollute the city with your stink, and you refuse to help the Stormcloaks!" the one who appeared drunk, who wore a hood, loomed over the elf and sounded irritated.

The lady sighed and looked the drunk into the eyes, as much as she could and said calmly, "But we haven't taken a side because it's not our fight."

The other Nord glared over at the hooded bastard and exclaimed "Hey, maybe the reason these gray-skins don't help in the war is because they are Imperial spies!" he let out a scoff and looked over at the Miss.

"Imperial Spies? You can't be serious!" she snapped.

Drunk-Doofus, now what Brynn calls him, crossed his arms and took a step closer to their victim. "Maybe we'll pay you a visit tonight, little spy. We got ways of finding out who you are." he half signaled to his friend and they walked away, leaving the elf alone for now.

Brynn started walking over to her, with disbelief what he just witnessed. _How can people be so racist?_ he shook his head. _The Dumner didn't do anything to their asses. Yet, anyway._ "Ma'am?"

"Yes?" she sighed again and looked at Brynn. "You must be new to this city. I would watch your back. Our kind isn't welcome much here. My name is Suvaris. I work at the Shatter-Shield office for the East Empire Company."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Suvaris." He bowed a bit, in courtesy. "I noticed those Nords... they were quite the bastards, weren't they?"

"Nothing new there. Most of the Nords living in Windhelm don't care much for us, but Rolff is the worst by far. He likes to get drunk and walk around the Gray Quarter yelling insults at us in the small hours of the morning. A real charmer, that one."

Brynn let out an irritated chuckle. "Now, what's it about this whole fucking spy thing? Are they being serious?"

She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes, she sighed again. "Some of these Nords will come up with any excuse to despise us. And it isn't just the dark elves they hate - they make a target of the Argonians as well. In fact, just about anyone who isn't a Nord is fair game for their bullying."

"Well, if you need anything, let me know." he started to walk away, but turned around one last time before leaving, "I am going to have a chat with this fucker before things get too out of hand."

Before she could even protest, Brynn already walked inside the Candlehearth Hall.

As soon as his foot stepped into the door, he could already smell the Mead and Ales from the visitors' breath. The smell of freshly cooked Skeever Hide also lingered, leaving a pungent taste in Brynn's mouth.

Upstairs, he heard bragging. Not just any "I killed that ice wolf that Was killing the chickens." No. It was worse. A drunk bastard bragging about the last girl he seduced and raped. Brynn hurried upstairs to find Rolff standing next to an older gentleman with another drink in his hands.

"Oi!" his voice projected and bounced off the walls. "Rolff is your name?"

Rolff face went to a scowl, eyes narrowing at Brynn. "What the hell do you think you are doing here, gray-skin?"

That nickname made his ears twitch. _Gray-skin? Why you little..._ "Visiting. Wanted to become a Stormcloak. But before I do that, there is one thing I can't fucking tolerate."

"Aw, I bet you couldn't even make it through the trials! Your species is so weak!"

Brynn huffed. "Say it again! Fucking say it again!" a low growl managed to creep out.

"Weak! I said you are so fucking weak!" Rolff stepped closer and closer until he got into Brynn's face, almost touching noses.

Brynn squinted at the drunk. Heat rose through his body as he clenched his fists, feeling like his knuckles were about to burst. "We are not weak. You are all talk and no bite, I can imagine."

"Prove it, bastard!"

The old man that was speaking to Rolff before bolted outside. Probably didn't want anything to do with this.

A fist came toward Brynn's face and he ducked, missing the blow. He punched his attacker in the gut then took him by the neck and shoved him against the wall. "What wrong? Dunmer got your throat?" Rolff managed to push Brynn away and thrusted him into a table. Brynn wiped away some sweat on his cheek and grabbed his opponent by the neck and punched him square in the nose, leaving blood and bruises on his face. They both breathed heavy, with Brynn towering over his rival.

"Hey you!" a voice from behind carried around the room. Brynn swung around to find 3 guards advancing toward him.

One of the guards, appeared to be the captain, stood in front of Brynn and spoke in a hurried way, "You are coming with us!"

Brynn took a glance around, and locked eyes with a larger, bearded Nord, then looked back at the guards. "For what?"

"For assault on an innocent man!" he pointed toward Rolff who was puking up blood on the wooden floors. Before Brynn could even speak, or even mutter a sound, the guards took the Dark Elf by the arms and pulled him away.


End file.
